


After Summers of Fasting (I Feel Hunger at Last)

by Baccatapages



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Flirting, Espionage, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst, M/M, Mind Games, Mutual Pining, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Avengers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, eventual polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24866377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baccatapages/pseuds/Baccatapages
Summary: Unknown, 4:21am:I have something you want.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Reader, Original Male Character/Reader, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Previous relationship though, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 53





	1. Place Your Smile in Mine

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry it took so long for me to claw my way out of my slump, and i'm even more regretful that i haven't fought my way out to update one of my many, many dusty WIP's but... well, here comes another one. 
> 
> (Work title and chapter title is from the Amazing Devil's Battle Cries)  
> (I adore 'After summers of fasting i feel hunger at last', probably too much...)  
> (Okay i'll let you read now)

Unknown, 4:21am:

_I have something you want._

Steve had been staring at that message over and over, not knowing what to make of it. Sam waved it off as a wrong number, Natasha merely raised an eyebrow, and Clint just shrugged while stuffing a pizza slice in his mouth. The text was impersonal, so it could’ve been a wrong number, and they were trying to talk to someone else.

By half ten that night, Steve convinced himself that it was just a wrong number. He decided to reply, just for politeness’ sake.

Steve R., 10:32pm:

_Hi, I think you have the wrong number._

Half an hour passed and Steve was still uneasy, and kept glancing at his phone as if he expected it to turn into a monster and swallow him whole. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as his phone pinged.

Unknown, 11:29pm:

_I have something you want._

His heart clenched and even though the voice in his head (that sounded suspiciously like Bucky, but he wasn’t one to dwell) warned him not to reply, he did.

Steve R., 11:30pm:

_I’m not sure if you got my reply, but you have the wrong number. Please stop texting me._

Steve did not sleep well that night.

Routines, especially since what happened with Bucky, were very important to Steve. Every morning at five, he would go for a run and when he got back, he’d make breakfast before going to whatever meetings Tony or Maria wanted him to attend, only vaguely listening. Sometimes, he would have to go for a briefing for a mission, but that was the only break in routine that Steve could really deal with.

That was why these texts really threw Steve, but he found himself trying to find solace in the other, smaller parts of his routine. Like Clint would always walk into the stool at the breakfast bar, stubbing his toe, or Natasha doing yoga in the main room.

And on the way to his first meeting, he would always end up walking beside Stark’s Assistant. She was always very invested in whatever notes or files she had, but always took the time to give him a genuine smile when their paths met. Her name was Cala (that was the name Tony shouted whenever he needed something, anyway) and hid herself behind her work.

That morning, the tension in Steve’s chest loosened slightly when their paths crossed, but it was quickly overtaken by alarm. He caught her just in time, as well as the files in her arms. “Are you okay?” Steve asked.

“I’m fine, Captain.” Cala choked out. “You can let go of me now.”

Steve blushed as Cala steadied herself, readjusting her files. “Is your leg okay?” He queried. She was favouring her left leg, though her face betrayed no pain.

“Hm? Oh, yes, it just plays up sometimes. The rain certainly doesn’t help.”

“I can carry those, if you want?”

Cala looked away, and Steve tried not to notice her arms shaking. He gently took the topmost files, balking at how heavy they actually were. Cala was not the tallest girl, but even Steve knew that appearances could be deceiving.

“So... the weather’s... weather.” Steve inwardly winced, but Cala seemed amused more than anything. “Uh, I don’t do this very often.”

“Talk to girls or discuss the weather?”

“Both?”

Seeing Cala smile banished all the tension in Steve’s chest, but it was short lived. His phone pinged and a glance told him it was ‘Unknown’.

Unknown, 8:51am:

_I have something you want._

Steve had faced down aliens and Hydra and a goddamn war, but this ‘Unknown’ made him more uneasy than he had ever felt. These texts were irregular, throwing a wrench into Steve’s daily routine.

“Captain? Are you alright?”

He blinked, pulling himself away from his thoughts. “Yes, I’m fine. And call me Steve.”

Cala stuttered, going slightly pink in the cheeks. “Oh, uh, right, yes, okay, Cap- uh, I mean, Steve. We should probably get to the meeting.” She jabbed a thumb towards the meeting room. With that, she scurried away, Steve following at a more sedate pace.

“Did I see a little chemistry between you and Capiscle earlier?” Stark asked, his voice muffled slightly from being under one of his machines.

You rolled your eyes, dragging Stark out from under the car. “No. We made pleasant conversation, that’s it.”

“He made you blush.” Stark countered, jabbing a screwdriver at you. “You. Cala. _Y/n Calanthia Y/l/n_ blush.”

“Who I talk to is none of your business, Stark.”

“Does he flirt like a grandpa? And how long will it take to get you to call me Tony?”

“Yes, and never.”

Ignoring Stark’s pout, you began rattling off all the things that needed his attention, even though you knew that he wasn’t paying attention and probably had JARVIS set to deal with everything. For a millionaire genius who could create almost anything, he was damn lazy.

Unknown, 7:53am:

_This is your last chance, Captain Rogers. I have something you want._


	2. The Ghosts of Our Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unknown, 12:39pm:
> 
> I completely understand, Captain. You don’t want Sergeant Barnes returned to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh. This is actually going better than i thought (the writing process, i mean. Now, if only i could apply that to the other WIP's?  
> Hmm. It's a long shot and i, personally, have terrible aim.  
> Enjoy!

Steve R, 8:45am:

_I don’t know who you are, but if you don’t leave me alone, then you won’t like what happens._

He couldn’t decide whether or not to be guilty or pleased. Still, he shrugged any thought of ‘Unknown’ off and broke five punching bags in the gym, endured a frustrated rant from Tony about breaking his stuff, and had lunch with Sam. He passed Cala in the hallway and nothing he tried could wipe the beaming grin off his face after she smiled at him.

All that time since he’d replied, he’d left his phone in his rooms. Steve idly checked it on the toilet (he was only human, for Christ’s sake) and the tension in his chest returned faster than he thought possible.

Unknown, 12:39pm:

_I completely understand, Captain. You don’t want Sergeant Barnes returned to you._

Without thinking, he typed back a reply and, somehow, managed not to crack the screen.

Steve R, 2:51pm:

_Wait, no, please, I didn’t know you knew where Bucky was. Please, I’ve been searching everywhere._

Fortunately for Steve, he’d finished his business on the toilet by the time Unknown replied.

Unknown, 2:56pm:

_I’ve read your file, Captain, but they didn’t mention you traded your brains for those muscles of yours. You threatened me. My services do not come cheap, Captain, and I was offering them for free._

By now, panic had truly started to seep in. He didn’t realise he was pacing until someone knocked on his door and Steve tripped over his own feet.

“Cala!” Steve practically shouted. “You’re here- wait, why are you here? Not that I’m not happy to see you, of course, I just... I was in the middle of something.”

“I can come back later-?”

“No! Uh, no, I just finished.”

Cala blinked. “Uh, right. Stark sent me to get you, you’re late for the mission briefing.”

Steve swore so loudly he could hear his mother rolling over in her grave, hurrying into his rooms and grabbing his suit. His cursing continued until Cala, hesitantly, said, “Cap- uh, Steve? I think your suit’s inside out.”

Oh. That was why it wouldn’t fit.

“Thanks, Cala. Could you zip me up?” He gestured to the back of his suit, grinning at the blush that had crept along Cala’s cheeks. She certainly took her time, so much so that he starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. “Uh, everything okay back there?”

“The zip’s broken.” Cala gritted out, Steve wincing at the sound of threads breaking. “I don’t suppose you have another suit, do you?”

“I have a spare in the gym.” At Cala’s raised eyebrow, Steve shrugged. “It’s where I spend most of my free time.”

“You should get to the briefing. I’ll go get your spare suit.”

At Steve’s insistence that he really didn’t want to walk around with his back exposed, Cala clipped the back shut with a few safety pins and then shooed him out, closing the door behind her. They went their separate ways at a trot, and Steve tried to ignore the odd looks people gave him.

Unknown, 3:12pm:

_The information I have is now old, and I have no intention of following the leads I have as it is very unlikely that I will ever receive thanks. Goodbye, Captain._

“Captain Rogers!” Maria Hill barked. Steve’s head snapped up, clutching his phone tightly in his hand. “First you come to briefing late and not even properly dressed, and now you’re not even paying attention?”

Steve could feel the eyes of the team on him, some concerned, others amused. “I’m sorry, Agent Hill. I’m just having a stressful day.”

“Do you need to take a moment?” Hill asked, not unkindly.

He opened his mouth to reply, but Cala hurried into the briefing room with his spare suit tucked under her arm. “Could you pass this to Captain Rogers?” She whispered to Clint, holding out the box.

“Aw, Cap, if I’d known you were going to order pizza, I would’ve ordered too!”

“You sent _my_ assistant on a pizza run?” Tony squawked indignantly.

“That’s my spare suit from the gym,” Steve tugged the box away from the archer, huffing. “Not pizza.”

“I offered, Stark.” Cala waved the billionaire off, taking her usual seat in the corner of the room.

Maria, who looked near to having an aneurysm, pinched the bridge of her nose and said, “Can we get back to the briefing, please?”

There was a murmur of assent, and Steve pointedly ignored the grins that Sam was throwing him.

Steve R, 9:02pm:

_I’m sorry I threatened you, I just didn’t know what you wanted from me. Please, i need to find Bucky._

Steve blinked down at his phone. The message had bounced and, with it, came a little message saying; **I’m sorry, but this person is unavailable**. Had... had Unknown _blocked_ him? It was still a foreign concept to Steve, even though Sam and Natasha had explained it multiple times.

“Someone giving you the cold shoulder?”

He sighed, turning to Natasha. “You remember I told you about some Unknown texting me and saying that they had something I wanted?” At a nod, he continued. “Well, turned out they knew where Bucky was but, since I threatened them, they refused to tell me anything. And now they’ve block me.”

“Blocked.” Natasha corrected. “May I see?” The Black Widow read through the entire conversation between Steve and Unknown (twice, mind you) before eventually speaking. “The Morrigan. You spoke with the Morrigan and didn’t become destitute. I’m impressed.”

“The Morrigan?”

“Well, I think it’s the Morrigan. Like the Winter Soldier, much of the intelligence community doesn’t believe they exist.” Natasha passed his phone back to him. “Think of them as a Robin Hood, of sorts.”

“How would the Morrigan known where Bucky is?”

Natasha gave a shrug. “Rumour has it the Morrigan has eyes and ears everywhere, has moles so deep they wouldn’t know which way is up if the sun told them.”

“And that chance has just gone down the drain.” Steve sighed.

He didn’t notice Natasha’s thoughtful gaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this yesterday, but life got in the way :/


	3. I Hear Them Howling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unknown, 10:56pm:
> 
> Stay away from her.

In all honesty, he wasn’t completely sure what he was looking at. Before him was a bizarre scene, one he didn’t expect to encounter early on a Monday morning. Pepper had pointed Steve in the direction of Cala’s desk (perfectly poised to intercept everyone) after shoving a heap of files that Tony requested through Cala. And so he staggered his way over to Cala’s desk, only to come face to face with a somewhat cluttered desk with a cat perched on top, licking its paws.

The cat had black spots with grey fur, and its eerily intelligent eyes seemed to stare into his soul. Steve blinked.

The cat blinked.

Then it meowed impatiently as if to ask what the hell he wanted. That startled Steve out of his thoughts. “Uh, I have some things for Cala?”

The cat thumped its tail on a clear area of the desk and looked at him expectantly. Steve placed the stack of files there, and noticed a piece of paper taped to the edge of the desk. It had a picture of the odd cat sat on the desk, with a headline reading, “My name is Mau. How may I help you?”

“Mau.” Steve read aloud.

“ _Meow_.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have had that coffee before bed.” Steve muttered, walking away.

He didn’t exactly have anything against cats, per se. Once, he brought a scraggly alley cat in from outside and tried to keep it in his room to help it get better before his mother made him let it go. But when they started following him everywhere, impeding everything he was trying to do, he couldn’t help but get frustrated.

Sam and Natasha thought it was hilarious, and Clint even managed to dig up a laser pointer from somewhere. After the third time Clint ‘coaxed’ Mau onto a particularly delicate spot of Steve’s with claws bared, Steve’d had enough.

“Look, Mau, you’re nice’n’all but Fury’s going to kill me if I don’t get this paperwork done.” Steve insisted.

“Meow.”

“Good. I’m glad we- FOR GOODNESS’SAKE CLINT!”

“What’s going on here?”

Steve froze, and dreaded the scene they presented. Him, a bona fide SupersoldierTM, with a cat hanging from his crotch, Sam howling with laughter, Natasha taking pictures, and Clint grinning evilly.

Cala raised an eyebrow. “I see Mau’s taken a liking to you.”

“Oh, yeah. We’re best buds.”

“ _Meow_.”

Steve winced as the claws dug in tighter. “Do you think you could-?”

“Mau. Here boy.” Cala called. The devil-incarnate released Steve’s crotch and trotted over to his owner, purring as she picked him up. “Sorry about that, Captain.”

“Cala!” Natasha practically shouted, making Cala turn back around.

“Yes, Agent Romanov?”

“Steve’s attractive, right?”

“Um-“

“Nat-!”

“I mean, he’s tall, muscular, got a cute face. What’s not to like?”

Cute face, huh? Wasn’t so cute now that it was as red as a tomato.

Cala shifted uncomfortably. “I suppose.”

“Steve! Cala’s beautiful, right?”

Steve choked on air. “Yeah, she’s really- uh, she’s, stunning, I, uh, beautiful-“

Natasha clapped her hands excitedly. “Excellent. Would you two mind coming to try out this new restaurant I found? It’s called the Crescent Moon, and it’s not far from here.”

“No?”

“That’s not really-“

“Oh come on, Cala, it’ll be fun!”

“I... I suppose it couldn’t hurt-“

“Great! Does Friday at seven work for you?”

“Yes?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem.”

Natasha smiled.

Unknown, 7:02pm:

_I’ll be in touch._

“Is everything okay?”

Steve tore his eyes away from his phone. Honestly, he didn’t know why he was ignoring the completely beautiful woman stood with him. He realised that he’d checked his phone at least five times, trying to process the text.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m ignoring you. That’s not very gentlemanly of me, is it?”

“It’s alright, I’m used to it.”

Steve was cut off by his phone ringing. Cala merely gave a shrug, and Steve answered it. “Rogers.”

“Stebe, I’m sick.”

He tried to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Natasha may be able to fool every lie detector, but she did not do a good sick impression. “Really?”

“Yeh. You two go to de restwant without be.”

Steve sighed. “Get well soon, Nat.”

“Agent Romanov is ill?”

“Yeah.” Steve cleared his throat. “We can still go, if you want?”

“I...” She hesitated. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

Steve shook his head vigorously. “No, really, I’d like the chance to get to know you better. And, besides, what could go wrong?”

“I’m so sorry about your dress.” Steve groaned for the fifth time, the red wine stain on Cala’s blue dress mocking him.

“It wasn’t your fault, Steve.” Cala assured. “Besides, I’ve never much liked this dress.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “Why? You look beautiful in it.”

Cala sighed. “My sister-in-law gave it to me. It’s... not really my style.”

A knot began forming in Steve’s throat. Sister in law? She was married?

He tried in vain to clear his throat. “So, how long have you been married?”

Cala blinked. “Well, I was married for nearly five years before Cullen passed away.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

They ate in silence for a while and Steve was loathe to admit that the food was actually very good.

“You know, my son is a big fan of yours.”

“Really?” Steve put his fork down. “I would’ve thought it’d be Iron Man.” He teased.

Cala smiled. “I said he was a big fan, not that you were his favourite.”

“What? I’m shocked!” Steve gasped in mock offense. “How old is he?”

“He’ll be four in a couple weeks.” Cala dug out her phone and showed Steve a picture. Sat in Cala’s lap, staring intently at the camera, was a little boy with the biggest Y/E/C eyes Steve had ever seen and curly blond hair.

“He’s adorable.” Steve insisted. “I’d, uh, be willing to talk to him if you think he’d like that.”

“Are you sure?” Cala raised an eyebrow. “He’d probably cling to you like a limpet.”

Steve chuckled. “Of course. Call it an early birthday present.”

Unknown, 10:56pm:

_Stay away from her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i totally wrote the third chapter for this story but then i lost it so this chapter is nothing like the original i wrote. Hey, at least there's a cat, right?  
> Comments and Kudos will make writing go faster and will be greatly appreciated :)


	4. It All Comes Down to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [REDACTED]: They don’t know my face. The art of hiding in plain sight requires you to be seen.
> 
> Ruth Jeyne: Are you going to do it or not?
> 
> You can no longer send messages to this number. Click here to learn more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive!

Ruth Jeyne: I need that favour now.

[REDACTED]: So?

Ruth Jeyne: The Winter Soldier.

[REDACTED]: Hm.

Ruth Jeyne: I thought you always paid your debts.

[REDACTED]: I do.

Ruth Jeyne: So?

[REDACTED]: Wouldn’t you rather I find your parents?

Ruth Jeyne: That was a low blow. I know S snubbed you, but put yourself in his shoes.

[REDACTED]: I will think about it.

_You can no longer send messages to this number. Click here to learn more._

Natasha sighed, letting her phone _thunk_ onto the coffee table. She had no idea what game the Morrigan was playing, and it frustrated her to no end. It was rare that Natasha was ever able to catch the Morrigan in the moment, having a proper conversation where she wasn’t left on read for five weeks.

She also had to wonder why the Morrigan would extend such a dangerous olive branch, considering they had several bounties hanging over them from a colourful variety of intelligence agencies. Why Steve? Sure, he had those baby blue puppy dog eyes that he could use to get anything he wanted, but Natasha doubted the Morrigan had ever met him in person.

Then again, no one knew who the Morrigan was. Only that their skills in tracking, subterfuge, espionage, and Assassination were highly sought after. Oh, and she had morals. Many paedophiles and rapists and the like had been exposed thanks to them.

The Black Widow was drawn out of her reverie by the chirping of her phone.

_You can now send and receive messages from this number. Click here to learn more._

[REDACTED]: He’s not a very good Assassin.

Ruth Jeyne: ?

[REDACTED]: Well, for one, people knew about him long before the whole Triskellion fiasco.

Ruth Jeyne: People know about you.

[REDACTED]: They don’t know my face. The art of hiding in plain sight requires you to be seen.

Ruth Jeyne: Are you going to do it or not?

_You can no longer send messages to this number. Click here to learn more._

Natasha wanted to scream in frustration. She locked her phone, tossed it onto the couch beside her, and slumped back against the cushions.

“What’s with the long face?” Steve asked, looking annoyingly sunny for someone at seven in the morning.

“That’s classified.”

Steve pouted but nodded, turning on the coffeemaker. “Want to spar today? I have to wait for Tony to get more sandbags before I can practice in the gym. He banned me.”

“How many have you broken?”

The supersoldier wouldn’t meet her eye. “Forty.”

“In the last month?”

“...no.”

“Fortnight?”

“Ahem...”

“ _Steve_.”

Steve threw his hands up in frustration. “It’s not my fault I’m this strong!”

Natasha shook her head fondly. “Maybe if you had a girlfriend, you’d be able to work off this frustration in ways that don’t involve property damage. A certain assistant, maybe?”

“Nat.” Steve said warningly. “Whatever you’re thinking about, don’t.”

She smirked inwardly.

Steve’s head felt like a dancehall for a hundred elephants. It didn’t help that there was an annoying song ringing in his ears. He pried his eyes open, trying to get his bearings.

Oh, right. The dinner. He and Cala had talked for hours, first in the restaurant, then in the bar. Steve walked her home and she offered him a place on the couch.

Which explained the annoying song.

Perched on the edge of the couch, wearing a underwear on his head and eating a bowl of dry, milkless cereal, was a boy. His eyes were transfixed on the television that was playing some kid’s TV.

When Steve propped himself up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the boy’s head swivelled round to look at him. “Hey.” Steve managed, his voice dry and scratchy. “What time is it?”

“I can’t tell time.”

“Oh, right.” Steve fumbled around for his phone, opening it to find it was only 4:31am. Huh. “Why are you awake?” _Why did you wake me up?_ His tired brain screamed. Steve barely got enough sleep as it was.

The boy shrugged. “Had a nightmare. I didn’t want to go to Mama ‘cause she doesn’t sleep well.”

“Oh.” Steve hesitated. “I’m Steve.”

“Connor.”

“What are you watching?”

The reserved boy leapt into a rapid-fire explanation about the show ‘Horrible Histories’ that was his favourite and somehow, they ended up watching six episodes together.

“Hey, Connor, do you wanna make breakfast for your Ma?” Steve suggested.

The boy wrinkled his nose. “Can’t cook. Not allowed near the hob.”

“The- oh, the stove. Well, we can both make breakfast. I’ll do the bits that only adults can do, and you can help me with the rest.”

Connor considered this, then nodded, as if it were an acceptable deal.

Steve quickly realised why Connor couldn’t cook, as well as why he couldn’t use the stove. With their combined culinary skills, they managed to avoid setting the fire alarm off, break three eggs onto the floor, completely char the bacon into a crisp, and break the microwave.

“Well, this could’ve gone worse.” Steve offered, scraping some blackened pancakes onto a plate.

“Mama!”

Steve turned to see the vision of loveliness that was Cala. Her hair was rumpled from sleep, and sleep dust still hung around in her eyes. “Morning, boys.”

“We made breakfast!” Connor beamed.

“I can see that.” She froze, though, lifting her bare foot out of a puddle of batter.

Steve cleared his throat. “Let’s sit down, yeah?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 is set between Chapter 2 and 3, part 2 is basically chapter 4.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos will, inevitably, make the writing process go faster, so any constructive criticism etc would be greatly appreciated.


End file.
